The Mediator -Reinvented
by Proudly Fanvergent
Summary: AU where Susannah is a ghost and Jesse is a mediator. Basically the series switched around a bit.
1. Meet the Family

_Chapter 1: Meet the Family_

Being dead sucks. Being a ghost is even worse. My name is Susannah Simon and I was murdered almost 2 centuries ago. Now, for some, hanging around for all eternity is bound to have its perks, but for me it's torture. Sure, it was fun at first. Now I know what it's like to be inside a wall. But after living in the same house that I lived in when I was alive, it gets depressing.

The people who live in this house are quite interesting though. Four people live here, a woman called Angelina and her three daughters, Vanessa, Michelle and Judy. I don't call them by their names though. I call them Sleepy, Dopey and Doc.

Vanessa, the eldest, is Sleepy. For a young nineteen year old woman, she shows about as much energy as my late grandma, which is not very much. Vanessa just looks and acts constantly sleepy.

Michelle is Dopey. She's not very gifted in the brains department, but makes up for it in muscle. The girl is an unstoppable force on the football field and is the resident bully in her high school.

Judy, the smallest of the family, is Doc. She's received all the brains as far as this family is concerned and has won an insane amount of spelling bees. She even spouts a new 'scientifically proven' fact every day. She's also come up with an explanation as to why the family dog starts whining whenever I happen to be in the room (animals can sense the supernatural, even ones they can't see. It's a very annoying gift).

Now the mother, Angelina, is getting married to a man named Ricardo who apparently has a son.

The son is a smoker, an underage alcoholic, has an illegal tattoo and is constantly in trouble with the police. He sounds like a bad boy. I wonder how Sleepy, Dopey and Doc will react to him.

'He needs a stable environment where he can grow up into the man I imagine he should be,' said a voice with a light accent from down the hallway. It was Angelina. I still couldn't place her accent. I'm thinking Southern, maybe be French. Then again I suck at languages, so maybe not.

I was sitting on the window seat, deep in thought, in the room I used to sleep in when I was alive. Angelina was probably talking about Ricardo's son.

'He needs a quiet room for his studies and I want to decorate it for him.'

Wow. This lady means business. I wonder which room she'll decorate for him.

'He can have this one,' said a male voice with a thick Spanish accent. It was Spanish. Definitely.

A man and woman walked into the room. Both were in their late forties and they made a striking couple. Then I realised which room they wanted to give the boy. I promptly fell off my window seat.

My room. They were going to give _my room_ to a boy. I will haunt them for the rest of their honeymoon. No, scratch that, I will haunt them for the rest of their lives.

'Angelina,' the man said, a little hesitantly. 'We really don't need to go overboard with this whole decorating thing. Jesse will probably want to do it himself.'

'Oh please.' She said, waving her hand in an offhand manner. 'He's still small. He doesn't know what he wants.'

Still small? Anyone who smokes is old enough to be able to decide things by himself. I mean, he made a choice to start smoking and drinking alcohol, right?

Wow. I feel sorry for Ricardo. I really do. Angelina controls him and he just sits there, agreeing to every single thing she says. To him, her word is the law. Poor lovesick fool.

I just hope she doesn't break his heart like she did with her other husband. She was married to him for 17 years and then divorced him because she _suspected_ he was cheating on her and there was no actual proof that he was cheating on her.

It just goes to show how much women have evolved over the centuries. There was no such thing as divorce back in my day.

Angelina was pacing while muttering to herself about colour schemes and types of headboards. Ricardo was just standing there and looking awkward._How_ on earth did these two ever fall in love?

'...so, the room will be done in about two weeks, if we work hard enough,' Angelina finished triumphantly.

'You know what? Why don't you do whatever you want and I'll supervise. Besides, Jesse is a polite kid. I raised him after all,' Ricardo said, though the latter was muttered softly, as if he didn't want his wife to hear.

'Yes, that'd be great!' Angelina clapped her hands and bounced up and down like she was a little girl who'd just gotten the best present for Christmas.

Ricardo left the room, his mouth upturned a little at the corners and an amused twinkle in his eye.

I shook my head and dematerialised, looking for something else to do or someone else to stalk. I can't wait for this boy Jesse to arrive. He's still living in Spain with his grandmother until the wedding, which is taking place in three weeks. I wonder if he speaks English. This is going to be the most interesting thing that has happened since I died, which says a lot.

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	2. The Visitor

_Chapter 2 __– __The Visitor_

It's been three weeks since the wedding and the happy couple just can't get enough of each other. It was nauseating. I've had to leave the room multiple times. What bothered me the most was that Sleepy, Dopey and Doc didn't seem disgusted or appalled at their mother and stepfather's behaviour. Angelina and Ricardo were always kissing. It doesn't matter when they're at home, but in public?! In my day, it was considered scandalous to even hold hands with your partner in public.

I cruised to the kitchen, where I could hear Angelina and Ricardo's voices. Thankfully they weren't sucking face like they normally were. Instead, they looked pretty serious.

'When is Jesse's flight due to arrive, Rick?' Angelina asked as she diced up red and yellow peppers, presumably for lunch.

Ricardo checked his watch. 'In an hour. We should leave soon if we want to get there when he lands. Are the girls coming with us?' He was typing away at something I'd heard Sleepy call a 'laptop'.

Their conversation quickly became boring and I disappeared, reappearing in the boy's new room to think.

_He_ was coming today.

The curious part of me wondered if he would like living with his new family, in the hot Californian climate. I wonder what it's like to live in Spain. Well, I'd never know but hey, a girl can dream.

I hope he's at least semi-attractive. It honestly feels like the entire male population in this town are the worst of the worst, and I've seen generations of them. What good is being stuck on the wrong side for eternity when there isn't even good eye candy? But, as always, I digress.

The boy's flight was due to arrive at midday, when the sun was at its strongest and the heat would be unbearable.

Sleepy actually managed to put on some make up and Dopey was wearing a _dress_.

It looks like this boy, Jesse, had been good for the two elder sisters of the family. Of course, they might be doing this just to impress him. They've met him before, at the wedding in Spain.

I think they both have a slight crush on him which, considering the fact that he is now their step brother, is revolting and just plain _wrong_!

They'd be back soon. No doubt Angelina would want to show Jesse her mad interior decorating skill.

In my opinion, the room looked too plain. It was a spacious room that faced the road and overlooked the neighbourhood. The view was gorgeous. You could see most of the town from here, as well as the ocean in the distance.

The room itself, however, had plain white walls with only a black and white picture of the Eiffel Tower above a large mahogany desk. The king-sized bed was placed in the middle of the room, adjacent to the where I was currently sitting, with a plain navy blue duvet and matching pillows.

The room was devoid of any character. When it belonged to me, the room was full of colour and life. The new decor made the room seem like a faded version of its former self. I hope the Spaniard was sensible enough to redecorate.

Seriously, what was Angelina thinking? Ricardo hasn't seen his son's new room yet. Angelina wouldn't let him. Honestly, that man needs more of a backbone. What if Angelina had painted the room hot pink?

But I doubt he cares about little things like that. He trusted her and loved her. He would continue to love her even if she made a mess of things. It was one of the things I liked most about Ricardo. He loved her with all his heart and worshipped the ground she walked on. It was adorable.

I sighed. Ricardo and Angelina reminded me of my own parents.

When I first awoke as a ghost, I was full of anger and confusion. I was too young to die. That's what I told myself in the beginning. The years passed and I watched my family grow apart because of my death. They didn't deserve that kind of pain. They felt as if my death was their own faults. My parents argued and screamed at each other, and my father was driven to drink. He went out as often as possible, leaving my mother alone at home. I watched over her, during those lonely nights. I watched her cry herself to sleep every night, wishing, praying and even begging for her daughter to come back to her.

She hanged herself after five years of the agony.

My father went mad and was institutionalized, where he flung himself off the fifth floor of the building.

I never saw them again, alive or as a ghost.

Then I met another ghost. His name was Damon and he was the last person that ever spoke to me. There was this thing he used to say – "You're dead. Get over it." It was like his motto. I guess it worked, because he moved on about eighty years ago.

I don't come across ghosts that often and he was a special friend. Losing him was painful, but I got over it. Now I just didn't care anymore.

How did I even get to this topic? No matter what I say or do, there are still so many questions that need answering. I needed desperately needed someone to talk to, someone who knew what was going on in this crazy, supernatural world. I don't think I can take pouring out my sorrows to the potted plant in the garden anymore.

Little did I know, my wish was about to come true.

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Tell me what you think.

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	3. Change of Scenery

_Chapter 3 __–__Change of Scenery (JPOV)_

I stepped out of the plane and was instantly hit with an intense heat. The sun was at its peak and it was incredibly hot outside. I instantly regretted leaving the cool, air conditioned interior of the aeroplane. I think I might faint from the heat, which is not very manly.

This was partly my fault. I was wearing my favourite leather jacket, a black shirt and jeans with my black Converse sneakers. It was cold when I left Spain, and I didn't think it would be_this_ hot.

Also, black is my favourite colour. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I can talk to ghosts. My name is Hector Jesse de Silva and I'm a mediator.

A mediator can see and talk to ghosts. It's our job to help ghosts move on to their next life or whatever happens when you die. I am honoured to have this gift, but it can be a little irritating at times.

My grandmother is also a mediator. She taught me everything I know about ghosts, and helped me realise what was going on after I turned thirteen and my 'powers' kicked in.

One thing that Hollywood always gets wrong with ghosts is that they supposedly look like they did when they died. This is definitely not true. When you become a ghost, you look like you did when you were alive and strong.

You only become a ghost if you have any unfinished business, which may vary from telling your son where you put the deed to your house to trying to kill the person who murdered you. It may seem creepy but I love helping people, dead or alive.

I slowly took in my surroundings. Thankfully, there were no ghosts in sight. But there were lots of palm trees and people.

I went to collect my bags and looked around for my dad and step family. The plane arrived late, but knowing my dad, they would most probably be here to pick me up in about an hour. He was always late. No matter. I was happy to wait.

There were so many different things happening here and everything was vibrant and chaotic. This place was going to be completely different from Spain.

My cell phone suddenly belted out one of my favourite rock songs. It was Dad, probably calling to tell me why he was late. I answered my phone and was greeted by my father's voice.

'Hello Jesse, my son. The whole family came to pick you up and we got here just as your plane landed.' His thick Spanish accent did not help his English, but I understood him – barely.

'Hi Dad, you're actually on time for something. Where are you?'

'Don't worry, I can see you. Stay where you are,' he said and disconnected.

I turned around, searching for a familiar face and spotted my dad and Angelina walking towards me, with my stepsisters Vanessa and Michelle in tow.

Oh no. Not those two. The smallest one, Judy, I could handle, but the elder two? Nombre e Dios! They wouldn't leave me alone for the entire wedding and they kept flirting with me, which made me extremely uncomfortable. I guess if I'm going to live with them, I should get used to them. But it wasn't my fault they were so unsettling.

My dad reached where I was standing and he placed his left palm on my shoulder. We de Silva's weren't the affectionate type.

'How was your flight from Spain?' He inquired.

'Very long,' I sighed, 'and uneventful.'

Angelina, on the other hand, squealed and enveloped me in a bear hug, pushing her husband out of the way with a force that surprised me. Her citrus scented perfume was overpowering and made my eyes water. I coughed and tried to breathe. If she didn't let up soon, my ribs were going break.

'Angelina. I can't. Breathe.' I managed to gasp, and she thankfully let go of me.

'You must be tired, son. Come on, Judy is waiting in the car.'

Both Michelle and Vanessa gave me hugs identical to the one their mother just bestowed upon me, though Michelle hung on a little longer than necessary and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

I felt extremely uncomfortable. I am an idiot around girls. I get incredibly nervous when it comes to asking them out on dates or to dances. I usually put up a bad boy act so they can't see how nervous I actually am. But to have my step sister flirting with me was too annoying.

I gently pulled my arm from her grasp and picked up my bags, following Dad and Angelina to the car where I could hopefully get out of this heat and change my dark, heat absorbing clothes.

The car ride to my new house was awkward. You could feel it in the air. I was squashed in between Vanessa and Michelle, who both smelled like perfume factories. They were so different at the wedding they seem like completely different people.

I was a shy person and didn't like talking to anyone I didn't know well. In other words, I was just like my dad.

Michelle kept pestering me with questions about Spain, my old school, my old friends and even my love life. I gave her short answers, mostly yes, no or ignoring her altogether.

Vanessa just sat there, I think she fell asleep. Judy kept telling me random facts about science and robots. I guess she liked that kind of thing.

I guess Angelina felt bad for me, because she said: 'Michelle, honey, why don't you save all your questions for later. I'm sure Jesse would like some time to adjust first.'

Michelle looked as if she'd been slapped. 'What? Uh, sure.' We were quiet for the rest of the journey and I was happy with looking out of the window and pretending I was still back home.

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	4. The Meeting (JPOV)

_Chapter 4: The Meeting (JPOV)_

The house was huge. It was part of the original town back in the 1800's, apparently.

'You'll love the house. We've just finished renovating and I've decorated your room myself!' Angelina seemed very excited to show me my new room. Fingers crossed it doesn't look awful.

'Thank you, Angelina. That was very generous of you. I can't wait to see it.' The polite side of me was on autopilot. All I wanted to do was get out of this insufferable heat and maybe get some ice cream.

I got out of my bags and waited patiently while Angelina unlocked the front door.

The garden was beautiful and very neatly kept. There wasn't a single leaf out of place. Lots of potted rosebushes dotted the driveway leading up to the front porch. There also patches of pink and purple flowers scattered around the lawn. My step family had one hell of a gardener.

My scrutiny came to an end when Angelina finally found the right key and let us in.

'This way, Jesse honey,' Angelina said. 'Your father and I want to be there when you see your room.' She turned and sped up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

I turned to my dad. 'What does my room look like?'

'I, uh, never got around to looking at the end product.' He said sheepishly, not looking me in the eye.

'Then how do you know if your wife did a good job?' I said anxiously.

'I have lots of faith in her, and if you don't like the room, you can redo it yourself. I promise I'll pay for the renovation of the renovation.' Dad touched me punched affectionately on my shoulder and continued up the stairs after Angelina.

I shrugged and followed him upstairs.

Vanessa, Judy and Michelle had all vanished, each mumbling their own excuses, with varying degrees of legitimacy. Females are strange creatures.

At the top of the stairs was a small passage, leading off into different rooms. Each room door was personalised, so you could tell who owned it. Vanessa's had her name on her door in fancy writing, with many pictures of a movie star that I wasn't familiar with. Michelle's door had pictures of sports equipment and emblems of various sporting teams. Judy's door was bright pink, with a huge periodic table stuck on it. A door at the end of the passage was a silvery grey and studded with diamonds. Dad and Angelina's, I'm guessing.

One door was plain brown. It looked out of place with all the other doors and looked boring. Probably my new room; the place I'd have to live in until I moved out and got my own apartment somewhere. Back home in Spain it was just my dad and I. I'm not sure if I can handle living in a house with four females.

Angelina opened the door with a flourish.

'Welcome to your new room, Jesse!' she announced dramatically.

I walked in and… Well what an anti-climax. Angelina had made such a big deal out of this. It wasn't anything special. Very basic, actually.

My face was blank as I slowly looked around the room, inspecting everything critically. Then I stopped. There was someone sitting on the window seat. Angelina and my dad couldn't see her, of course, she was a ghost. I continued to stare at her and I swear my jaw dropped slightly.

Angelina noticed my reaction. 'What do you think?' she asked, a little anxiously.

I gulped and looked at my dad. I was going to have to let her down slowly. 'It's a lovely room, Angelina. Thank you.'

Angelina looked crestfallen at my lack of enthusiasm.

The ghost girl on the window seat tilted her head to the side a little, and then put her hand on her chin, as if deep in thought. She obviously didn't know I could see her yet. I was staring at her from the corner of my eye.

My dad half smiled. 'Don't worry, she'll forget all about it by next week.'

'Do you like it dad?' I asked him straight out.

'I'm sure once you throw your teenage junk everywhere you won't even notice the place.' Dad made a face and looked around the room, looking right through ghost girl. It's really strange how my dad wasn't a mediator, but both his parents (my grandparents) were. They never told him about it either. I guess they didn't think he'd be able to handle believing in things he couldn't see.

'Well, you must be tired. I'll be downstairs with Angelina. Call me if you need anything.'

'Yeah, sure. Thanks dad, bye.' I closed the door as he left and prepared to face ghost girl. I turned around and did a double take at the supernatural being sitting on my window seat.

Shafts of sunlight came streaming through the window, hitting her chestnut locks and glinting off the gold locket at her throat. I caught my breath. She was gorgeous. She wore a long sleeved wedding dress, with no sign of a veil. A bouquet of ghostly flowers was haphazardly flung on the seat beside her.

Her soft, silky hair was in ringlets, the perfect curls cascading down her back and framing her heart shaped face. She had full pink lips, which were slightly parted. Her skin was pale and flawless with no traces of make-up, so different from the women of the 21st century. But what dazzled me the most was her eyes. They were a brilliant emerald green, ringed with thick lashes. I was rendered speechless.

The ghost girl was playing with her hair, twirling a strand around her fingers. I'm guessing she must have been around my age. She looked at me curiously, with her head tilted slightly to one side.

I mentally slapped myself and started to speak.

'Hello. My name is Jesse. What's your name?' I mentally face palmed. Way to go, Jesse. You sound like a kindergartener, I silently thought to myself.

She blinked slowly and looked over her shoulder, as if she thought I was talking to someone else other than her. I continued looking at her and she seemed to realise that I could see her. Her eyes widened and she gracefully rose from her seat and moved to stand in front of me.

She was so beautiful. My heart beat faster. She was standing so close to me. If only she would speak to me.

'How can you see me? Are you real?' She poked me in the chest as she spoke. Her voice was music to my ears. It was as sweet as honey and I wanted to hear more.

'Sorry, stupid question. Of course you're real. My name is Susannah and as you can obviously see, I'm a ghost.'

Another chapter because my WiFi was down and I couldn't update

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	5. The Meeting (SPOV)

_Chapter 5: The Meeting (SPOV)_

I could hear them coming upstairs. There were three voices; one, the deep voice of Ricardo, two, the high-pitched, girly tones of Angelina, and a third. One voice I didn't recognise; a voice that flowed over me like velvet, a deep voice with an accent just like Ricardo's. Jesse had arrived.

I can't wait to see his reaction. The door opened and I sat back to enjoy the show.

Angelina entered first, then Ricardo. Behind them came Jesse. I almost died of laughter. The look on Jesse's face when he saw that room was priceless. I struggled to maintain my composure. But then, no one can see me, so where's the point?

Jesse's piercing dark brown eyes swept around the room, lingering on the spot where I was seated; then he looked away. I shrugged. He must not like window seats. They continued to chatter and I was growing bored so I began to play with my hair.

Gradually the adults left, leaving Jesse alone in his room. Or so he thought… Damn I sounded like a stalker.

Jesse looked in my direction again. Why did he keep doing that? Was he fascinated by windows or something? Boys…you can never understand them.

I raised an eyebrow as I appraised him. He was wearing a clingy black shirt that gave you a hint of what his six-pack looked like. He had on low cut, very skinny jeans. He had windswept, messy brown hair that was styled to look like he just rolled out of bed. He had a ring on his middle finger – nothing fancy, just a silver band with an engraving that I couldn't quite see.

He had an air of danger and moved with the grace of a fighter. He was hot. And I had no chance in hell with him.

I was getting ready to dematerialize when he spoke.

'Hello.' He said. 'My name is Jesse. What's your name?'

Who the hell was he talking to? Is he also schizophrenic? I looked back, thinking that maybe – just maybe- there was someone hovering outside the second story window. Nope.

It took me a few seconds to realize he could see me.

'Impossible.' I whispered to myself.

I walked up to him and poked him in the abdomen to make sure he wasn't another ghost – oh and that six pack I got a glimpse of? Totally legit. Really good body, but I'm getting distracted- again.

'How can you see me? Are you real?'

He was very real and he was very much alive. He could see me! I wanted to scream and cry and victory dance. But I decided against it. I don't want him thinking I'm a lunatic or worse.

'Sorry, stupid question. My name is Susannah, and as you can see, I am a ghost.' I gestured to myself.

'But how are you able to see me?' I was confused.

He walked closer to me and bowed slightly. 'Jesse de Silva, mediator, at your service.'

'A mediator, huh?' What was he going on about?

'Yes. A person who can see and talk to ghosts; a mediator helps ghosts move on.' He smiled. 'It's a family gift.'

So that's what a mediator was… Funny, I've never heard of them, like ever. If he can see and talk to ghosts, would I be able to hurt him? Would he be able to hurt me?

It was time for a little experiment. I summoned my inner actress.

Standing up and folding my arms, I narrowed my eyes. 'You know, this used to be _my_ room. You can't just waltz in here and move in. Not without my permission.'

The good boy façade seemed to fade as he looked directly at me with a smug smile.

'I just did. What are you going to do about it?' He smirked.

'This' I said, and flung my bouquet of flowers at him. It hit him squarely on the chest and bounced off, not hurting him in the least. My experiment proved successful. I could hurt him; even kill him if he became a threat.

Looking highly amused, he took a step closer to me. 'Of all things to throw at me, you choose the _flowers_?'

I shrugged. 'It was the thing nearest to me. In the future I promise I'll throw something bigger and more likely to cause damage.'

'Please, no destruction' Jesse said, holding his hands up in surrender. 'Just tell me why you're here so I can help you move on.'

He seemed like two different people, all smiles and perfect manners in the beginning and then all smirks and arrogance later on. I hated to admit it, but, in that moment I was even more attracted to him. It didn't help that he brought out my inner bitch.

'Want to get rid of me so easily? What if I_chose_ not to move on? What if I like it here?' I asked him.

'Give me a reason why you like it here, and maybe I won't have to send you to the light the hard way'

I narrowed my eyes. Did he just threaten me? No one threatens me, Susannah Simon, and gets away with it. This mediator was starting to get on my nerves.

'The hard way? How, exactly are you going to send me to the other side _the hard way_?' I was getting angry; very angry.

'I'll do an exorcism.' Jesse said. 'I believe it's quite painful.'

'Don't you even dare try, or I will kill you,' I warned him. I was furious. The mirror on the wall started shaking, threatening to fall and shatter. My emotions kind of have an effect on the things around me.

Jesse must have realised this and held up his hands once more. 'Okay, how about this: We share the room, but you have to let me help you move on.'

This guy never gave up, did he?

'Fine, but don't forget that I have the power to kill you in your sleep and make it look like an accident!' With that, I dematerialised; I needed time to think.

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	6. Roommates

Chapter 6: Roommates

Jesse de Silva could see me. And hear me! This was the best news I ever had in my entire un-dead life. I felt like a kid in a candy store. But he was so annoying! A typical teenage boy. But going so long without talking to anyone had me starved of companionship so I gave up trying to stay away from him and materialised in his room. He had his back to me and was unpacking his belongings.

Now, where to begin… It's been ages since I've had to use my manners. Okay Suze, we'll start with small talk.

'So how do you like California, Hector?' I asked brightly.

He jumped, then said sarcastically, 'Well, hello to you too Susannah. How did you know my first name?'

'Your father talks about you often. You'd be surprised to learn the extent of my knowledge.' I said, twisting an errant curl around my index finger.

He folded his arms. Such muscular arms… I could see them through his crisp white shirt. He'd rolled the sleeves up to his elbows… Oh what would it feel like to be in those arms? Okay, best thing for everyone was to stop that train of thought altogether.

'It's just Jesse. What are you doing here?'

Sitting down on the window seat as if it was my throne, I fiddled with the lace trimming on the sleeve of my dress. 'I came to apologise for my attitude yesterday. You just annoyed me.'

His gorgeous brown eyes widened. 'If that's what you're like when you're annoyed, I'd hate to see you when you're angry.'

I rolled my eyes. Jesse sat next to me on the window seat and looked at me thoughtfully. 'So, who was the lucky guy?'

What the hell is he talking about? He must have seen the confusion on my face because he launched into a rapid explanation.

'It's just, you're wearing a white dress and you have a bouquet of flowers, which I assume was your wedding dress. So you must have had a husband, right?'

'This is you trying to do your mediator thing isn't it?'

'Am I really that obvious?'

I chuckled and nodded. 'Yes, I had a husband, but that's a long story. We need to work on your tact, Jesse.'

Jesse's eyes met mine. 'We?'

I shrugged. 'I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, so I might as well help you out. Anything you need supernatural help with, call me.'

'Thank you Susannah, but I doubt you'd be able to help much.'

A spark of indignation flared up in me. 'What are you insinuating Jesse?'

He stretched and I got a glimpse of smooth tanned skin and a hint of abs. 'I'm just saying, you might not have the stomach for the things I do. Exorcisms require blood sacrifices, and you look like the squeamish type.'

My amiable mood vanished. His words brought back memories that I fought so hard to forget…

I moved faster than the human eye could see and had Jesse on his feet and pinned to the wall by his throat before he could blink. 'Do you think I've never witnessed anything brutal? Do you honestly think I'm that naïve?'

Jesse held out his palms 'Querida, calm down.'

'No, Jesse, not until you understand where I'm coming from.' I smiled coldly. 'I'm dead Jesse. Do you know how I died?'

He shook his head mutely, shocked by the barely concealed fury in my voice.

'My husband murdered me in cold blood. On our wedding night he tied me to a chair and tortured me; slicing at my skin with a butcher knife until the floors ran red with blood. He slit my wrists and laughed as I bled to death. He was insane. But that's not the worst Jesse.

'Did you know that everyone's death is branded on to their souls? I remember my death every minute of every day, and I cannot forget. No matter how much I want to; no matter how much I try. How ironic that ghosts are haunted too, by their own demons, no less. So don't dismiss my generous offer to help so quickly.'

I released him from his current position against the wall and he sank down to the ground. I returned to my seat and Jesse's eyes widened in shock and horror. 'Susannah, I am so sorry. I should have known…'

I sighed, tired from everything, even though I never get tired. This was a first.

'It's not your fault Jesse,' I whispered. My voice cracked, causing Jesse's eyes to widen and reach for my shoulders.

'Querida, please don't cry.'

I glared at him, my vision distorted from the tears I refused to let fall. 'I'm not crying! It's just - my allergies.' Nice going, Simon. Now he thinks you're stupid. Ghosts don't have allergies, they don't even have bodies to be allergic to things with!

But Jesse just nodded. 'Of course.' He leaned forward and tentatively wrapped his arms around me. Oh my… a hug. For the first time in what felt like eternity. I breathed in his scent of soap and tobacco and something else that was entirely Jesse and hugged him back tightly. I buried my face in the crook of his shoulder. Who knew the bi-polar mediator had a sensitive side?

Jesse broke away from our hug and twined a stray curl of mine around his finger. 'If you ever need to talk, pop in anytime you need. Okay?' I nodded, causing him to smile slightly. I reached out to briefly squeeze his hand. The moment my hand came into contact with Jesse's shirt an electric current seemed to pass between us and I actually felt a shock. Not a romantic metaphorical spark like you might think of, but a literal spark of electricity. It was… well electric-blue and other than the initial shock, it didn't hurt at all.

Narrowing my eyes to see if Jesse showed any signs of having been affected by the spark, I was met with his curious gaze.

'Did you feel that?' He asked cautiously.

'Yes. I've never seen anything like that before. Do you know what it was?' What the actual hell just happened? I hoped it wasn't a bad sign.

Jesse looked at the finger that was still entangled in my curl, appearing to be very deep in thought. Then his eyes met mine with realisation. 'I think I do, actually. There's someone I need to ask first. I may be wrong.'

He stood up and grabbed his cell phone. 'I'll be back soon, hopefully with some information'

And with that he was gone, leaving me alone and very confused.

;;

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	7. When Sparks Fly

_Chapter 7: When Sparks Fly…_

So maybe it wasn't my brightest idea to leave Susannah with no further explanation, but I needed to know if I was right about this.

Sprinting down the stairs, and yelling a quick 'I'm going out, I'll be back soon!' I hastily got into my car, which was a beautiful black 1967 Chevy Impala – courtesy of my dad. I'd been obsessed with this car ever since I saw it on a TV show when I was younger, so he'd gotten it for me as an early eighteenth birthday present.

I may have gone a little over the speed limit in my rush to get to my uncle's house. Let's just say my uncle knows a thing or two about the supernatural, so if anyone could confirm my suspicions it would be him.

When Susannah had touched me it felt like a static electricity shock. That should not have happened, at all, because Susannah is a spirit. Sure, she looks and feels real, but she has no body. Her real body is probably six feet under in a grave somewhere nearby. But if I was right, then her body might not be exactly where it was supposed to be…

I checked my watch. I'd been driving for nearly ten minutes and I was nearing the house. It was hard to miss, being the biggest house in the cul-de-sac. Maybe 'house' was a bit of an understatement. It was more like a mansion.

My uncle had immigrated two years ago after inheriting the mansion from an old relative. Said relative had been murdered in the gardens, and her ghost had been lurking in the mansion. Uncle Raphael had to help her move on by using his 'insane mediation skills' – his words, not mine. We were never that close because he's made mediation his job. Uncle Raphael would be gone for months at a time, travelling across Europe and getting rid of ghosts his way - the hard way, which could be either exorcising them or burning their remains.

But he's happy in America, and he seems to have settled down.

I sped up the winding driveway, screeching to a halt the second the front door was in sight. Making sure my appearance wasn't too ruffled, I rang the doorbell and heard it echoing throughout the mansion. There was the sound of footsteps and the door opened, revealing my smirking uncle – who was only seven years older than me).

'Hello Raphael.' I attempted a smile.

'Jesse, long time no see. I'm surprised it took you this long to visit.' His bright blue eyes registered my anxious face and his expression become concerned. 'You have a problem. Come in and we'll talk.'

I followed him into what I assumed was the living room slash foyer. It was an open plan inside, with a fire place in the middle of the room and black leather couches flanking it. A table stood on one end near a couch with a bottle of tequila and some glasses on it.

Uncle Raphael gestured toward the couches. 'Sit, make yourself at home. Want a drink? There's tequila and I may have half a bottle of whiskey somewhere…'

When I shook my head he shrugged and proceeded to pour a drink for himself. Taking a seat on the couch opposite the one I was sitting on, he gave me his undivided attention.

'There's a ghost haunting my new house. Her name is Susannah and-'

'And you haven't exorcised her yet?' Raphael interrupted.

I glared at him. 'Not everyone uses the harsh ways to help spirits move on, you know.'

'I know, but my way is just so much easier. Sorry. You were saying?'

'A ghost touched me today, and there was a blue spark. I felt it too, like a small electric shock. It subsided almost immediately. That's why I need your take on the matter.'

He frowned. 'What do you think it is?'

'I think her body has been resurrected and some spirit is possessing it.' I looked my uncle straight in the eye.

'Well don't sugar coat it sunshine,' he said dryly. He slowly shook his head. 'That's impossible Jesse. I've never heard of anything remotely like that happening before.'

I rolled my eyes. Typical Uncle Raphael. He knew almost everything about mediation. The thing is, he only remembers something when he feels like it. Some may call it selective memory.

My uncle has an entire library full of _revistas. _A _revista _is kind of like a journal. Each mediator in our family had one. The _revistas _are dated all the way back to the 1800's. Each was a record of everything that was discovered about ghosts and mediation. Everything I knew about ghosts came either from my grandmother or from those books. My grandmother used to keep them but after she bought a much smaller house in Spain, there wasn't any place for them. So she shipped them off to Raphael. Thank heavens she did, or would be at a complete loss on how to deal with this rather unfortunate situation.

'Uncle Raphael, do you remember anything you've read? There's a _revista_ in your library which has an entire chapter dedicated to resurrection.'

'What? _Of course_ I've read them.' He said indignantly. Yeah, right. 'Actually, it's all coming back to me now.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'Then you remember what could be done to return this corpse back to its rightful resting place- six feet under in Carmel's Cemetery?'

Raphael ran a hand through his hair and pursed his lips. 'No… I can't say I do.'

Panic seized me. There was a ghost parading around in Susannah's body, probably wreaking all kinds of havoc already. It takes a lot of power to resurrect a body and the most powerful type of spirit is a vengeful spirit – those who want revenge and are just plain murderous. This is bad. What am I going to tell Susannah? How do you tell a person that their body has come back to life but is being possessed by a powerful ghost?

I stood up quickly. 'What? How can you not remember?'

He looked grim when he answered me. 'There wasn't any solution. I think it was great grandmother Monique who wrote that particular _revista_. Jesse, Monique was killed on the job. She didn't have a chance to record anything other than what we have. The ghost that was possessing the body ripped out her heart before she could blink. They're dangerous Jesse.'

I fell back onto the sofa, the fight had drained out of me. 'All the more reason to hunt that thing down and destroy it before it hurts people.'

Raphael smirked. 'I thought you didn't use the 'harsh ways''

'Vengeful spirits cannot be reasoned with. The harsh way is the only way. I have to go Uncle Raphael. My friend needs to know someone's possessing her body.'

I was gone just as quickly as I came, sparing Raphael a quick 'Bye Uncle, thanks for the help.' 

;;

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	8. Crash (JPOV)

_Chapter 8: Crash (JPOV)_

I sped down the highway, mulling over the possible ways to trap this ghost. Oh who am I kidding? I didn't even know where to begin. I didn't want Raphael's help with this either. This is my first real job, excluding the times I helped ghosts move on – those jobs were easy. The ghost was already there. It was just the matter of explaining to them that they were dead and that they needed to move on. Easy as pie. This time? Not so much.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't even see the blue Mercedes veering into my lane. There was a loud bang accompanied by the sound of screeching tyres. In the review mirror I could see a flash of brown hair before all my attention went into stopping my car before more damage was done. I pressed on the brakes as hard as I could, eventually coming to a stop in the grass next to the road.

I sat there in shock for a few seconds. Opening the door and, walking around my precious car to inspect the damage, I saw the Mercedes had stopped not far from me. There wasn't much damage, thank God. It was just a scratch.

The reckless driver sprang out and ran towards me. It was a woman… who looked very familiar. The many bracelets on her wrists jingled and a delicate hand proceeded to remove her big sunglasses, giving me a clear unobstructed view of her face.

My knees felt weak and I held back a strangled gasp. The woman looked _exactly_ like Susannah. Nombre e Dios it _was_ Susannah! Or her body, at least.

Not-Susannah looked worried. 'Oh my word are you alright? I'm so sorry! This is all my fault, I lost control of this stupid car.'

'Um… Uh…' I was speechless. Jesse you idiot say something! 'I-I'm fine. Are you hurt?'

She bit her lip. 'No I'm not.' She extended her hand. 'Hi. My name is Heather Chambers.'

I tentatively shook her hand. 'Jesse de Silva. I would say it's nice to meet you but you kind of dented my car.'

_Heather _giggled. 'I'm sorry about that. I'll pay for the damage. Wait a second.' She dug around her black purse, pulling out a pen and a piece of paper, scribbling something down on it before handing ti over to me. 'Here's my number. Call me and tell me how much repairs cost and I'll pay you. Maybe we could even do lunch?'

My father raised me to be a gentleman, but he had in no way prepared me for a circumstance such as this one. What do I say? Heather was legitimately asking me out…She couldn't be a vengeful ghost… she's too happy. The girl was just oozing sunshine. She may look like Susannah, but she sure as hell didn't act like her. But appearances can be deceiving, as my dad always told me.

I tried to smile. 'Maybe.' Backing away from her and getting into the Impala as quickly as possible without looking rude, I smiled again. 'So, I'll call you.'

She nodded. 'Cool. See you around.' Walking back to her Mercedes, which had a nasty dent on the bonnet with the left headlight smashed, she looked back once before driving off.

I had just met the whatever-it-was that was in Susannah's body. What I really want to know is how did she return it to its former glory? That body should be a pile of bones…

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